Ruined Dress
by Sable Supernova
Summary: Dominique and Victoire have a falling out, so Dominique goes to the one person she knows will make her feel better. One-Shot. Written for QLFC.


Written for the QLFC, for Wigtown Wanderers (Seeker) for the prompt: Dominique Weasley

* * *

 **Ruined Dress**

"Why do you always have to ruin everything?" Victoire screamed at her sister before storming away.

That was the tip of the iceberg for Dominique. She hadn't meant to ruin anything; she wasn't vindictive. Victoire never did see it that way. Dominique stood in the kitchen, her cheeks burning hot as tears threatened to fall.

She'd been trying to help.

She stared at the white dress on the table in front of her, and the scorch mark on the hem, and felt empty. It was Louis who'd done the damage, really, but Louis could do no wrong in Victoire's eyes. Louis was a saint. Dominique was always her sister's scapegoat.

She understood why, too. At sixteen, she'd spent enough long nights analysing it, turning it over and over into the early hours of the morning when the sun began to rise.

Victoire was the princess, the pretty pampered first-born with success handed to her on a plate. She knew it, too, milking her long blonde hair and seductive eyes for all they were worth. That's how she got Teddy.

Dominique wasn't any of that. She still enjoyed climbing trees when she could. Growing her hair long meant it got in her way, and she'd never got the hang of heels. Victoire didn't understand it. Neither did her mother, for that matter. In fact, only one person really did.

Dominque made to move, and headed into the living room. She knew her sister would be upstairs, floo-calling a friend or crying about the disaster. Dominque didn't care; Victoire was too young to get married anyway, in her opinion.

Dominque walked straight for the floo, knowing exactly where she wanted to be. She barely even saw her mother by the window.

"Where do you think you are going?" Fleur asked, her French accent briefly shining through. "You have a dress to fix."

"It can't be fixed. You know it can't, mum. Vic knows it can't. So why should I waste my time trying?"

Before her mother had a chance to reply, Dominique grasped a handful of Floo Powder and threw it in, calling out to be taken to the Scamanders'. If anyone could make her feel better, it was Lorcan.

She stepped out into a room empty of people but full of oddities. Immediately, she felt calmer. Clearing up the ash and soot with a flick of her wand, she stepped further into the room. "Lor?" she called.

"He's in his room, dear!" came a shout from the kitchen. _Luna,_ Dominique thought with a smile, wondering what she was cooking up today.

"Thanks!" she shouted back and began for the stairs.

Outside her best friend's room, she didn't bother to knock. It was always more fun to burst in on him when he wasn't expecting her. He was lying on his bed, and she made her way over to lie beside him with a heavy sigh.

"Hello to you, too," he remarked, noting that she hadn't greeted him.

"Hey, Lor," she said.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sensing that she wasn't her usual self.

Dominique bit her lip. "Me and Louis wrecked Vic's dress," she announced.

"Well, shit," Lorcan replied with a grin before bursting out laughing.

"I'm glad you find it funny!" Dominique admonished him, hitting him playfully on the chest.

"I do. Does it look better now?" he asked, and before long, Dominique was laughing as well.

"Not in Vic's opinion," Dominique said.

"Your sister is way too uptight. Seriously, Vic would look good in anything. It's really not that important."

"Thanks, Lor," Dominique said with a smile, leaning her head against his arm. She knew she'd made the right choice by coming here. If there was anywhere she felt comfortable and safe, it was with her best friend, Lorcan.

"Anytime, Dom, you know that," he said.

"That's why I'm here. Although I don't deserve it," she replied.

"What do you mean?" he asked, sitting up slightly to look at her.

"You're too nice to me. I feel like I depend on you too much, like I should be able to deal with my own life without you," she admitted.

"Don't be stupid. I don't even do anything. I just think you're pretty when you smile so I try to make you smile as much as I can," Lorcan replied.

Dominique looked confused when he'd finished speaking. After all their years of friendship, never had he complimented her like that. She couldn't tell if he was just being nice, or if there was something hidden in his words she didn't understand.

"What do you mean?" she asked, staring intently at him. He looked away, unable to keep her gaze. Dominique wondered if she was imagining the blush she saw in his cheeks, or if it really was there.

"Nothing. We're friends, right? So I'm allowed to want you to be happy? We're just friends," he replied, defensive and distant.

" _Just_ friends?" Dominique asked, knowing she wasn't imagining things now.

"Yeah. Just friends," he replied and made to stand.

"Lor, wait," she said, grabbing his arm. He turned around on her quickly, and Dominique could see the anger in his eyes before he even began. He was embarrassed, afraid of rejection. She could see it; she knew him to well for him to be able to hide.

"What for? For you to finally see what's right in front of you? For you to tell me you love me, but not like that? That's what they say, isn't it?" he shouted, his harsh words a mask for his fragile heart.

Instead of saying anything, she closed the gap between them with a smile, grabbing his shoulders, and kissed him.

"I'm not promising anything," she whispered when they broke apart, "but we can try."

"What the hell does that mean?" he asked, calmer already.

Dominique rolled her eyes. "It means… it means I'm comfortable with you. I'm happiest with you. Maybe we can turn that into something."

"Okay," he said, and kissed her again.


End file.
